The Embodiment of Evil
by Hannalore Dayne
Summary: The soul is your inner self, your untouchable core... but what... if someone could touch it? Steal it? Use it?
1. Prologue

****

I don't own anybody, no I don't

If I had to own something, it'd be a boat!

I don't own Evy and I don't own Rick

So, is my poem making you sick?

Note: My good friend Kiara Ananda came up with the basic idea for this story, the whole soul thing, and she said I could use it & elaborate. Thank you Kiara!!

Note 2: I would just like to say one thing: I hate Alex! I cannot write that annoying little child! He's extra baggage, and there's only so many times you can stick a boy in a daycare center. Adults are so much more fun to write. Like Ardeth, for instance. Now there's a fun guy to write. Yummy… 

Note 3: I'm not sure why I have a third note. I like notes. They're fun.

Imhotep was suspended in Hell. It wasn't a peaceful floating sensation, either- he couldn't feel the world around him due to his inner torment. And if he had been able to see through that, he would have seen the true face of Hell. But so wrapped up was he in his own pain, that he did not even notice where he was, and the burning flames and screams of sinners went unnoticed by the anguished High Priest.

His whole mind was burning, too- burning like the souls around him, only with a different kind of pain. Over and over, he couldn't help but replay Anck-su-namun's betrayal in his mind. His heart twisted and his mind screamed, but the terrible scene repeated itself ad infinitum, until finally, what seemed like centuries later, he felt numb to his own pain, and could imagine her face without hurting. As his inner torment slowly subsided, the other souls in Hell drew nearer, eager to make him as miserable as themselves. As long as he had been suffering, they had left him alone, but now he was not feeling anything, and the souls could tell. Imhotep did not notice their malicious auras and spiteful movements, because now he did not notice anything at all. A modern psychologist would have said he was going through a natural stage of grief, but of course a High Priest was above that, and it would have been ridiculous to apply psychology to his situation.

After his numbness wore off, he could remember what had happened in flashes- then chunks- and then, he could remember it all. He remembered the Scorpion King's face, twisted with hate, as he fell into the pit of Hell. He remembered his own despair as he watched the monstrous warrior fall out of his reach. He remembered his love running away from him, and he remembered… he remembered the face of Nefertiri and her Med-jai husband, the love they shared, the _pity _they had felt for him, him! Of all people, they had pitied _him_, for just a moment. Unreasonably he began to grow terribly angry- angry at their sympathy, and angry that they had been able to share love where he had not. His insubstantial fists clenched and his head seethed. The surrounding souls backed away, feeling a rush of unhealthy emotion come from their prey. It made them happy, knowing that he was back among the tormented, so they went in search of another victim.

Imhotep spent all of his time after that (was it days? Years?) plotting futilely, imagining the things he would do to the O'Connells when he found them. His thoughts ran from enraged to coldly sadistic, keeping him oddly sane and keeping him from really feeling anymore- at least about Anck-su-namun. A while later (for it was useless to try and keep track of the time), he felt something cold touch his arm. It jerked him out of his psychotic reverie and brought him "awake" enough to realize that the Spear of Osiris had not melted with the force of Hell's hate- it was right here, right by his side. Idly he wondered where the Scorpion King was as he grasped the strangely cool metal. Holding it in this place, so affected by superstition and emotion, he could _feel_ the power running through the shaft, coursing through the spear all the way to the tip. He would have grinned if he had not been so consumed with sick hate. Staring at the spear, barely noticing as the other souls drew away in fear, he suddenly found it possible to grin- and he did, he grinned, knowing exactly what he was going to do.


	2. Proposition

Evy Carnahan O'Connell was bored. She loved her boys more than anything in the world, and she liked nothing better than to make them happy, but lately all Alex was interested in was flying planes with his father. He had been spending less and less time at the British Museum and more time at Izzy's. He would never admit it, but Evy thought that he had really been affected by his recent experiences in Egypt. It had been three months, and Evy was still waiting for the right moment to talk to him about it. So for now, all she had to do for fun was polish and translate artifacts at the Museum, or polish and translate artifacts in her house. She was bored, and she wanted something to do.

It was a puzzling dilemma that made her think, as she sat in her room pretending to read a novel. She couldn't stand the beastly things, novels. Fantasy was not on her list of favorite subjects, since her own life was much more exciting than most of the books she had read- or at least it had been until Alex started taking flying lessons. Exasperatedly she shut the book and went downstairs to get an early start on making dinner. This was definitely _not_ how she wanted to spend her married life- reading novels and cooking. She wasn't that brilliant of a cook, either. Irritably she got out a pan and starting pouring various things into it. Her nerves took a severe hit as a small, previously hidden statue of Bastet fell off a shelf into the nearly empty pot with a splashy clang, covering her in herb bits and water. Trying not to scream, she picked up the statue and went to wipe it off. As the obsidian image dried and shone, Evy was struck with an idea. It was so simple that she didn't understand why she hadn't thought of it before. Smiling now, she set the image aside and went to use the telephone.

"That's it, O'Connell! You're doin' great! You can't hear me anyway, so it wouldn't matter if I said you were a bloody ostrich!" Izzy shook his head and wiped his forehead. On a hot day like this, it was just too much to ask him to look up as O'Connell Jr. flew one of his precious planes all over the blasted sky. Unfortunately, however, Izzy's sense of finance far overruled his sense of personal property, and the O'Connells always paid him well and in advance. It just wasn't fair. 

He turned as he heard his telephone ringing, glad of an excuse to stop craning his neck up into the sky. He trudged towards the umbrella, which was shading the ancient, dying telephone. Maybe with this latest payment he would be able to buy a new one. He picked up. "Izzy speaking, what do you want?" "_Izzy? This is Evy O'Connell, hello."_ Izzy rolled his eyes. Another one. Why didn't the whole bloody family just move in with him? "Hello there, Mrs. O'Connell, what can I do for you?" "_Well, I'd like to speak with my husband, if he's not too busy." _"I'll see if I can get him for you, Mrs. O'Connell." Not too busy, hah, as if O'Connell would spend a moment on the ground in this place. Izzy had bought new planes with his share of Carnahan's diamond. It had been a long fight, but his beauties were worth it, and O'Connell definitely appreciated them.

"Hey!" Izzy shouted at the top of his lungs, running towards the plane and waving his arms. He picked up the bright red signal flag and waved it wildly. "Hey!" he practically screamed, hating O'Connell for making him play messenger-boy. He watched as the plane slowly circled around and came in for a landing. He let the flag drop and jogged over to where Alex and Rick O'Connell were just getting out of the plane. "Don't leave the bloody engine running, O'Connell," he shouted. Rick gave him thumbs-up and turned it off. "Now," Rick said, taking off his headgear, "what was it you wanted?" Izzy sighed lengthily. "Your wife's on the phone for you, O'Connell." Rick raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Evy? I wonder why?" Alex shrugged and went to go look at the other planes, not removing his flying gear. Izzy swore that one day that kid would wake up and that outfit would be glued to him. It was like he never took it off. Rick made his way over to the telephone while Izzy quickly made sure that his beautiful airplane hadn't been damaged by those blasted O'Connells.

"Evy?" "_Rick? Hello, darling, how are you?"_ "I'm just great, Evy, but why'd you call us down?" "_Oh, were you flying? I'm sorry, dear… but I have a proposition for you."_ "Okay, shoot." "_I want to go to Egypt tomorrow." _"What?" Rick blinked, thinking that perhaps he had misheard. _"Egypt, darling. Egypt? You know, pyramids, flesh-eating beetles…"_ "If you're trying to convince me to go, then you're not doing too great. Why are we going to Egypt?" _"I've had nothing to do for the past month. I'm quite bored, Rick, and if it's all right with you, I need a change of scenery. It's not like money is a problem-"_ "That's not the problem. I'm having a little trouble switching gears here." _"Oh, don't worry, Rick, you'll get used to it on the plane, I'm sure." _

Plane? Rick's eyes traveled and rested on his son, who was inspecting the propeller of B-32. "Can Alex fly us there?" _"Oh, Rick, that's very sweet, but-"_ "He'd be amply supervised, of course. Izzy's been teaching me to fly, too, and I'm getting pretty good." _"Rick, that's not the point, he's only eight years old. No, dear, the plane I was thinking of was one of those new-fangled ones that hold ten people at once. They're absolutely safe- a bit expensive, but that shouldn't stop us… oh, it'd be such fun, Rick!" _Hearing the excitement in his wife's voice, Rick knew he couldn't refuse her anything. He also knew that there were a lot of risks to having your eight-year-old fly you in a two-person plane to another continent. It had just been a whimsical thought. He sighed. "All right, honey. Should we come home early to pack?" He asked through his wife's squeal of excitement. _"No, darling, I've got it all under control. I'll start right away, you don't have to do a thing." _Rick shrugged. "Okay, Evy. I love you." _"I love you too, Rick._" He smiled and hung up the phone. Making his way over to Alex, he called, "Guess what, son? We're going to Egypt."


	3. Back in Egypt

The plane landed jerkily in the newly built, surprisingly dilapidated Cairo airport. The O'Connells stepped out into the bright Egyptian sun, Evy chattering about the amazing flight, Rick carefully watching the sleazy-looking bellboys, Alex trying not to yawn. Rick led them out of the shabby building as quickly as possible and asked a camel vendor for the location of the nearest inn. Thankfully, it wasn't far, and they went to unload their luggage right away. "Oh, Rick, this is just lovely!" Evy was so happy to be back in Egypt that she barely noticed where she put her bags. One of them happened to land on Rick's foot. "Eh-yeah, lovely," he grated, yanking his foot out from under the heavy bag. "What've you got in there, Evy?" Evy waved her hand distractedly, looking out the window at the busy, sweltering city below. "Oh, things, my archeological supplies, mostly…" Rick nodded. "Yep, I pretty much figured that." He lifted Evy's heavy bag and put it in the closet with the others. "This isn't going to be a pleasure outing, is it, Evy? We're working." Evy turned to him, all innocent surprise. "Oh, _no,_ Rick, absolutely not! This is absolutely for fun and fun alone. In fact," she said in surprise, as if she had just thought of it (which Rick was sure she hadn't), "why don't we go visit Ardeth today? Have a little reunion?" 

Rick looked at her resignedly. "How do expect to find him, Evy?" he asked, knowing she already had an answer figured out. "He lives in the desert." Evy had already planned out this whole trip, he was sure. They would be in Hamunaptra by tomorrow. "Well," Evy said, apparently thinking, "we could aim for Hamunaptra… the Med-jai would most certainly come out to see us, wouldn't they? Good!" She smiled brilliantly. "So it's settled. We'll visit Hamunaptra right after we've eaten." Alex had been quiet this whole time, worn out from the trip, Rick assumed. But now, trying to follow his mother's train of thought, he was blinking in confusion. "Mum, have you lost your mind?" Evy ignored her son. Rick shook his head, but said nothing, knowing better than to argue with Evy. His beautiful, headstrong wife obviously had her heart set on visiting Hamunaptra. He guessed she was hoping that Ardeth would let them into the city because of their past history. He personally knew that the Med-jai chief wouldn't let them in, and for the same reason.

They went down and had the dinner the inn had prepared: dry, sandy bread, weak soup and bad wine. By the time dinner was over, Rick was wishing for London to come and rescue them. Evy, however, was as cheerful as she had been when they arrived. Alex ate without complaint, though Rick could tell he was sorely missing his flying lessons. So was Rick, for that matter. Evy didn't even seem to notice that the thicker chunks in the soup were unidentifiable. Rick loved Egypt as much as the next explorer, but his wife took adventure to extremes. Danger didn't really seem to exist for her, and though Rick was not exactly frightened of going near Hamunaptra, he was definitely apprehensive. His only consolation was the fact that Ardeth would not allow them inside the city no matter how much Evy pleaded.

The city was as hot and dusty as ever. Rick had to admit that he was glad to be back, and even his trepidation couldn't keep him from enjoying the walk through the Cairo streets, hearing the bustle of people, snatches of foreign languages, glimpses of strange clothes and items. Alex tugged on his father's arm. "Do you think they'll let me fly a plane here?" Rick smiled. "No, I'm pretty sure our little excursion will be air-free." Alex snapped his fingers. "Blast it." "Language," Evy said absently, looking animatedly at everything around her. Rick could tell that for her this was truly home. More than once he had considered moving here, just for her. Although he knew that she probably wouldn't hear of it, absorbed as she was with the doings of the British Museum. "Ah," said Evy, spotting the camel vendor from before. "Can I have my own camel, Mum?" Alex asked. "Please?" Evy looked to Rick, who shrugged and reached for their coins. "All right!" Alex grinned at the vendor, who smiled back, happy to be receiving more money.

"Oh, Danny boy…" Evy sang lightheartedly as they set off on their camels. Rick wondered why he had never noticed before that she could sing quite well. He didn't know the song, since his own musical repertoire ended somewhere around "Home on the Range", but he enjoyed listening to his wife trill as it took his mind from the heat of the desert. He was leading, since he knew the way. Alex was having a time controlling his camel, but he was enjoying every second of it. The last time he had been on a camel was when he had been the prisoner of an evil mummy, so this time around, he was trying to make the most of it. Though Rick did notice that his son's excitement was tinged ever so slightly with nervousness. Rick would have been nervous, too, if he had been through all of Alex's experiences.

Traveling through the desert also brought back memories for Rick, though perhaps slightly happier ones than his son's. He could still recall Evy, dressed as a native, urging her camel on and smiling at him as they raced the Americans to Hamunaptra. Just thinking about it brought a smile to his face. "Well, I'm glad to see that you're happy," Evy said playfully, song finished. Rick blinked out of his memories and grinned at her. "Oh, just being with you makes me happy, my dear," he said just as playfully. Evy reached over and lightly hit her husband with the blunt end of her whip, smiling still. Rick drew his camel right up next to hers and kissed her, still going forward since their camels didn't appear to notice their riders' inattention. 

Alex glanced over incredulously. "Oh, Lord, you can't ever give it a rest, can you? Even way out here in the desert, you just _have_ to suck faces, never mind the _sand_ or the _sun_, it's all _kissing_, oh, ugh. I'm riding up ahead." He kicked his camel, who didn't change pace. "Move, stupid," Alex asked politely. The camel spit onto the ground and stopped dead. "Move! Move," Alex yelled as he kicked the camel. Evy broke away to say, "Alex, dear, be patient with him. Pat his rump." Alex patted his camel gently, saying, "Please move? Please?" The camel broke into a sudden run, almost throwing Alex and carrying him far ahead of his parents. "I like planes much betterrrr!" They heard as the distance between them lengthened. Rick separated their camels. "Well, we better catch up to him," he said. "Yes," sighed Evy regretfully. "Dik dik dik!" She said, slapping her camel lightly. Rick shook his head and matched pace. "In all the years I've known you, you still haven't come up with a better word than 'dik'?" He shouted as they caught up to Alex. Evy shrugged and grinned.


	4. Reunion

Ardeth bellowed his warcry and attacked his opponent, who only just managed to deflect his sword. Whirling around, the dark-robed attacker tried a standard thrust-parry move, which failed instantly. Ardeth began to move faster, flicking his sword in and out of the air in hopes of inspiring his opponent. "Can't you be more original?" he shouted over the din of their swords. Panting, the warrior did not reply, only just managing to block all of Ardeth's thrusts. Finally he stumbled backwards, wearied, and fell, bringing his sword up in a feeble attempt to block the Med-jai chief's killing move. Ardeth's sword stopped inches from the warrior's enrobed throat, and he crouched down to join him, not moving the sword. "You're dead," he told him matter-of-factly. Whisk! The sword was back in his belt and Ardeth was offering a hand to the warrior, who, after putting away his own sword, took it and stumbled to his feet, dusting sand away from his robes. 

"Remember that next time you fight. What you have learned will not suffice," he told the panting young man, raising his voice so that the spectators could hear. "You must be able to _improvise_! You must be ready to handle any situation that is presented to you! The bandits will not be so forgiving as I have been," he turned to face his warriors, who were listening intently, "and they will not care about the 'right way' to do things. There is no honor among the outcast." The Med-jai nodded and shouted the warcry together, signaling their understanding. Ardeth and the young warrior bowed to each other and made their way back to the main camp. Ardeth always enjoyed training sessions. It got his men thinking, got them trying new things. There was always someone who surprised him with a tactic he had not thought of. Ardeth was a firm believer in preparedness, having been taught by experience that the most unbelievable things could happen practically without warning.

At first he thought it was his imagination, so he ignored it. Then he heard it again: "Ardeth!" A faint voice was calling his name. He spun around, squinting in the desert sun. "Ardeth!" The voice was slightly clearer now, and he thought he recognized it. "Stay here," he told his men in Arabic, and jogged towards the voice. After a few yards, he could see the tiny outlines of three camels, making their way towards them. Eyes narrowed, he had a sudden idea about who it was on those camels. "O'Connell?" He shouted. The answer came back: "Ardeth!" That was definitely Evy's voice. He shook his head. What were they doing so close to the City of the Dead? If they thought he would allow them inside, then they would have to turn right around. It was dangerous for them to be even this near. They had no idea of the kind of consequences that happened when they made their way through ancient places.

"Isn't this lucky, Rick?" Evy exclaimed. "We've stumbled upon Ardeth already! We're not even that close to the City…" Rick squinted ahead at the miniscule black figure. "He doesn't look especially happy to see us. I think he's shaking his head." Evy waved aside his comments. "Nonsense. He's probably delighted to see us again. Ardeth!" She called again, nearly deafening Rick. "Ow! Honey, take it easy, I'm sure he sees us by now. You don't have to keep yelling." Evy looked at him sheepishly. "I'm sorry, darling." Alex said nothing, absorbed in his own thoughts. He thought he had seen a fight, just a minute ago. Ardeth had been battling. If I could learn to fight like that, he thought, then I could take out Imhotep and all his dead friends.

Ardeth sighed internally. Already he could see a dozen reasons why the O'Connells shouldn't be here, and another dozen why he should just turn and go before they'd even said good morning. He had to ignore his instincts for now and just grit his teeth and say hello, yes I'm fine, goodbye, have a nice flight back to London. He knew it was too much to hope, however, that the O'Connells (led by Evy, he was guessing) weren't up to something that involved Hamunaptra, himself, or the Book of the Dead. He turned around. "It's all right," he called to his men in their language, "It's the O'Connells." They let out a collective breath and began to mutter among themselves. Ardeth found it a bit amusing that every single Med-jai in Egypt knew the O'Connells by name and face. That little family was a legend among his people. Watching the camels, he saw them speed up and gallop to meet him.

"Yah!" Evy hit her camel and it sprang forward, sprinting towards the mass of dark-robed Arabians. She heard her boys doing the same behind her. Within seconds she could see Ardeth much clearer, and in just a few more she was in front of the Med-jai leader, getting off her camel. The tattooed Arabian bowed fluidly and said, "Greetings, Evy. It gives me great pleasure to see you again." Evy smiled warmly at her old friend and hugged him. Rick shook the man's hand, and Alex asked hesitantly, "Where'd you learn to fight like that?" Momentarily startled, Ardeth realized what he meant. "My people have always been warriors, Alex." Alex looked up at him unblinkingly. "I want to learn," he said. Ardeth thought about that. "Perhaps," he said guardedly. He looked at Evy. "Will you stay with us tonight?" He wasn't about to mention Hamunaptra, and Evy wasn't either. He wanted the O'Connells where he could see them, under the close watch of his men. They would not slip past him tonight. Evy nodded almost immediately. "I would be delighted, Ardeth," she said happily. Alex grinned too. Only Rick was a bit uncomfortable. The Med-jai made him nervous, seeing as how he was apparently one of them. It didn't make any sense, but that didn't make him feel any better.


	5. Replacement

Imhotep stood as still as a stone, listening to the pure silence of the night

Imhotep stood as still as a stone, listening to the pure silence of the night in the former Ahm Shere. It was an incredible change from the shrieks and moans of Hell, the crackling fire and even more, the intense feeling that surrounded everything. Contrary to most belief, Hell was not physical sensation. It tore at your mind, burning it, twisting it. Out here, in the cool desert air, Imhotep could feel the silence almost physically, and so he stood, breathing calmly.

Ardeth led them through the ranks of his men to the nearby camp, concealed by dunes and a cliff. Rick felt a chill as they walked near the cliff's edge, because he could remember riding underneath it twice, and both times, he had looked up to see Ardeth and his men staring down at him. He had never been on top of the cliff. This must be their lookout point, he thought, shivering a bit. Ardeth introduced them to several high-standing Med-jai, who bowed in awe and respectfully greeted the O'Connells as the legends they were. The O'Connells were a little surprised at the treatment they received, but it didn't worry them too much. Evy asked at one point, "Where are all the women?" Ardeth had pointed down past rows and rows of tents, to a part of the camp slightly apart from the rest. "They sleep separately," he had said shortly. Rick understood perfectly, but Evy delicately refrained from further questioning.

An extra tent was hastily resurrected near Ardeth's, built a bit larger in order to accommodate both male O'Connells. It was only with much arguing that Ardeth managed to convince his advisors that Evy could stay next to her family, in her own tent. Evy was glad that she didn't have to sleep far away from the people she knew. The evening fire had already been started, and supper was cooking over the flames. Rick asked Ardeth what there could possibly be to eat out in the desert, and then decided that he didn't want to know. It's probably camel or something, he thought. In fact it was horsemeat, since three of the horses had recently died of exhaustion. Nobody told Alex what they were eating, since he had proven early in life to be a picky eater.

Imhotep had stood there for half an hour, feeling his freedom, relishing the fact that Hell was miles underground, far away. Now he moved, stretching his long-dormant muscles. He was not solid; he knew that. His body had been the first thing to die in Hell, and it had taken all of his strength to keep his mind from going too. But here he was, alive. His soul was intact, though corrupted, as it had always been. The Spear was still in his hand, and now he turned his thoughts to its power. He had literally ripped a hole in Hell, and pushed himself out, sealing the tear behind him. Now all of that power was at his command, and he tried to think of what to do with it. He knew that he was going to punish the O'Connells, but the question was how? Most of his plans had involved physical things, such as torture and death. As a soul, he was fairly sure that he would not be able to do so much as touch his enemies. He was also fairly sure he was invisible.

A dozen schemes rushed into his mind, a hundred ideas of how to cause those lovers pain. On a sudden idea, he touched the Spear to his forehead and _felt_ for the O'Connells, searching for their presence in the world. To his delighted surprise, they were in Egypt- and near Hamunaptra. That gave him a very interesting opportunity. He wanted them to suffer, wanted them to see the pain in each other's faces as they realized that they would be separated forever. That was what he wanted. Feeling through the spear, he also noticed the souls of several hundred Med-jai all around them, including the chief of those cursed bodyguards. As an added twist, he might also be able to give considerable pain to the Med-jai… but it would mean he would have to go into Hell again for just a moment. Breathing the cool air regretfully, he pointed the Spear towards the ground.

After supper, Ardeth let the O'Connells unpack what little belongings they had brought, and assigned a young warrior to watch the fire. He could just make out the faraway, flickering fire of the women's camp, still going strong. Inside his own tent, he stripped and wrapped himself in a single blanket. His muscles relaxed a bit painfully as the stress of the day soaked into the ground. It was almost more than he could handle to have the O'Connells in his camp, though they didn't realize the trouble they were causing. English ate far more than his warriors, and Americans ate more than the English. That little family had eaten a single warrior's week of rations. He was just glad that they were leaving tomorrow, because Rick at least knew when his welcome was worn out.

Ardeth had almost fallen asleep when he heard a strange murmuring. It sounded like someone reciting an incantation, and he wondered if the O'Connells were still experimenting with Ancient Egyptian scrolls. He sat up quietly, listening for the sounds from the O'Connells' tent, but they were all asleep. He could still hear the faint voice, but he realized that it was not coming from a tent. It seemed to be coming from his own head. Then the pain started. His head started to hurt, like a headache, but sharper, as if someone was peeling the inside of his head away from his skull. Squeezing his eyes shut, he clamped his head in his hands, but it only got worse. Then his hands started to hurt too, and his arms, and his legs- and soon his whole body felt like it would explode. Back arched, he clenched his teeth to keep from screaming and frantically tried to think what could possibly be causing this. Then the pain stopped, and his body fell limply to the ground. It took him a second to realize that he hadn't fallen with it.


	6. Hell and Back

Imhotep got up 

Imhotep lay there for a moment, still feeling the aftereffects of his incantation. It hadn't taken him long to find the right one, since as a High Priest he had memorized nearly everything from the Book of the Dead. It gave him great pleasure to think that his 'host' was now in Hell, where he himself had been a moment before. Almost certainly the Med-jai would not know how to work the Spear of Osiris, and so he would never escape. Imhotep smiled, then stopped, suppressing a shiver. Smiling with different lips- what a strange sensation. He sat up slowly. This Med-jai was the same height as him, more muscular, to be sure, and he had- hair. He reached up and touched the silky strands, shuddering. How disgusting. He looked at his hands, feeling the skin rub against skin, and remembered that all Med-jai had ritualistic tattoos. They were surely on his face as well. He got to his feet a bit unsteadily and hunched down a bit to avoid hitting the tent's ceiling. Then he realized that he was unclothed, and took a blanket from the ground, tying it in the Egyptian style.

Remembering his last touch with the Spear, Imhotep recalled that the O'Connell boy and his father were sleeping to his right, and Nefertiri was next to them. He slipped out of the tent, marveling at how quietly the Med-jai chief moved. Everyone was asleep save one young warrior, who was tending a dying fire. The warrior looked up at Imhotep, taking in his dress and manner. "My chief?" he asked, puzzled. "Go to bed, Iseah," he said quietly in Arabic. "The fire needs no more tending." The boy nodded, still confused, and made his way down the row of tents. If Imhotep had been a different sort of man, he might have been interested in the fact that he knew Arabic and who Iseah was. He might have been stunned at the implications, that the body holds residual memories of the soul. But Imhotep was not that sort of man. He was the sort of man who wanted revenge, and who was about to get it.

Ardeth opened his mouth to scream, to shout for help, to tell someone that his body was lying there and he wasn't in it, but the instant his mouth opened he was jerked backwards, as a fish on a hook. Winded, he was shocked out of screaming as he was pulled _through_ the tent wall and dragged, hovering a few inches off the ground as he sailed past Iseah, who didn't notice him at all. He tried to call, but his voice was lost on the wind whistling past him. He tried to turn around, but whatever held him was too strong, and he could only watch in horror as the Med-jai camp disappeared and he continued to fly over sand dunes and cliffs. 

All of a sudden it stopped, and he was standing in a huge, shallow depression in the sand. Gasping for breath, he looked around, and realized with awful certainty that he knew where he was. He was in Ahm Shere. He had no time to process that thought as he was wrenched downwards with no warning. He passed through the sand, shivering violently as the grains slid through his body, down, down, until he was passing through rock, and he could feel a strange heat coming closer. He was traveling towards the warmth, and he organized his thoughts enough to wonder why. With a faint _pop_, he was there, screaming, unable to help it, because there was pain everywhere.

He was in Hell.

Evy was having trouble sleeping. Her old visions of Egypt were resurfacing, and she was reliving them all, down to the moment her father died. She was asleep, but her eyelids were fluttering uneasily, eyes caught in her visions. She moaned softly in her sleep as she saw Imhotep and Anck-su-namun stab her father once more, and then the visions started again. Flashes of her childhood, glimpses of her adolescent years, her fight with Anck-su-namun… A hand on her cheek brought her mind gently awake. Eyes still closed, she closed her hand over the other's. "Rick, you'll wake Alex," she mumbled unclearly, still very sleepy. "Not Rick…" The whisper was so soft she almost didn't hear it. "What?" she asked quietly. She opened her eyes as the man's head descended and she felt his firm kiss. In the dark she couldn't see a thing, but her free hand groped for the man's face and found his long hair. She pushed his shoulder away, breaking their contact. 

"Ardeth?" she whispered, frightened. "Ardeth, what are you doing?" He didn't answer, but began to stroke her cheek with his thumb. "Stop-" she said out loud, but she had barely finished the word before his hand snapped over her mouth. "Quiet," he whispered calmly. She bit his fingers, but he didn't even flinch. Terrified, she began to struggle, twisting out of his grasp. She backed into the corner of her tent. "What are you doing?" she asked again, her voice shaking. Ardeth shook his head, laughing softly. "I'm taking my revenge," he whispered, and she could hear the hate in his voice. "What-" she began, but he interrupted her. "I've been waiting…" he said intensely. "And finally, I'm going to do it. I've been waiting for more than ten years, Evy…" he stopped. "Evy." Eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see his pale smile. "Your name…" He's insane, she thought, what am I going to do? 

"Rick?" she called in normal tones. Ardeth laughed again, and she shivered violently at the sound. "Yes, call for Rick," he said. "Rick!" he shouted. "Rick, come and rescue your wife!" They both waited in silence. Ardeth looked at Evy, eyebrows raised. "He's not waking up." "That's what you think, bastard." Ardeth spun tightly to see Rick in the tent doorway with a knife. He looked furious. "Well," Ardeth said quietly. "It appears the Med-jai chief is not the only one who can move quietly." Rick looked at him incredulously. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Ardeth didn't answer right away. Evy thought that he was actually thinking of a reply. He must have lost his mind, she thought. Poor Ardeth. But she could only say that now that Rick was here, now that there was no danger.

"You'll never see her again, Rick," he said, voice rising into a crazy, high-pitched tone. "What?" Rick said, clutching his knife tighter. "You heard me!" Ardeth was breathing hard now. "Look at her while you can, Med-jai, because she is gone. She left me," he said suddenly, in a completely different tone of voice. "where _she_ would not leave you…" he stabbed his finger at Evy. "Why?" he cried. Evy thought with horror that she saw a tear roll from his eye. "It doesn't matter," he said abruptly, "because she's leaving you now." And he began to speak in Ancient Egyptian. Evy stared at him, shocked. Ardeth didn't know Ancient Egyptian. Then she noticed that he was wearing an Egyptian-style robe. A terrible suspicion began to form in her mind, strengthened by the words she could understand. "Rick," she said fearfully as the incantation- for that was what it was- continued. "_Heart of crocodile, tears of stone, from flesh to spirit, no longer one…" Rick_ stepped forward in alarm, but he was already beginning to swim before her eyes. "Rick," she said, starting to weep, as she understood what was happening now. She reached for him vainly, but he disappeared and was replaced by a wall. Still sobbing, she knew without looking that she was in the temple sacrificing room, in the City of the Dead.


	7. The Gods

The torture in his head was unending. Ardeth was curled tightly in the fetal position, too crazed by pain to notice anything. Luckily for him, the other, spiteful souls knew that he was suffering great agony, and they left him alone. Far in the corner of his mind, in the tiny area untouched by Hell, he could hear talking. He barely noticed it was there, and was fighting too hard against insanity to care, but there were definitely voices in the back of his head.

"_What is it doing here?"  
"I do not understand myself how it came to be here."  
"It does not belong."  
"I know this."  
"What is there to do?"  
"I am not yet sure."  
"My Lord, this soul is too early come. You see how it is reacting to this place."  
"I know this. Which of my subjects has dared to bring it to this place?"  
"I do not know, my Lord. Perhaps it knows this itself."  
"Withdraw the punishment for a moment. I wish to see what it does."  
"As you wish, My Lord."_

Suddenly, it all went away. Ardeth sat frozen for a second, in shock. Then he slowly uncurled and stood. What had happened? What was this place? He was deeply shaken. Around him there was a sickly copper color everywhere, the color of dried blood and roaring flames. Squinting, he could distinguish other shapes, human shapes, staring at him in a peculiar mix of envy and malice. He looked down and quickly shut his eyes, because there was nothing below his feet; there was more copper and people and it seemed to go on forever. He opened his eyes and tried hesitantly to walk; his foot came down and rested on apparently nothing- but the nothing held. He took another step. Suddenly one of the figures snarled and jumped at him. Ardeth reflexively shielded himself, but the figure had bounced off, as if deflected by a wall. Ardeth was disturbed. Would they all attack him now? And would whatever was protecting him hold up against the thousands of figures he could see? But moments passed, and no more attacks came. Instead they all watched.

Feeling very apprehensive, Ardeth began to walk at a normal pace, looking for… what? Everything here seemed to be the same. The figures parted for him, apparently fearful, so he was allowed free passage. But this privilege seemed useless if there was nowhere to go. Standing still for a moment, he tried to think rationally about what was happening. The last thing he remembered was becoming separated from his own body. That in itself seemed impossible, but… if he was where he thought he was, then it made perfect sense. This seemed to be Hell, though he had never believed in such a place. He could think of no other explanation. But how had he gotten here? And why had the pain gone away?

__

"What is it doing?"  
"It is thinking."

Ardeth whirled around, searching for the voice he heard. Far in the distance he could see a small white speck, so small that he almost missed it. He set off towards it at a dead run, relieved beyond relief at seeing something that wasn't the colors of Hell.

__

"It is coming closer."  
"Are you afraid?"

The voices were louder now. The second voice seemed tolerant, even amused with the first voice, who seemed to be a bit nervous. Closer, closer… he could make out the figures now; it was two men, one sitting and one standing near him.

__

"Why are you allowing it to approach us?"  
"I want to see if he knows who we are."

Slowing, panting, Ardeth stopped in front of the men. He blinked. The standing man was muscular, tensely built… and he had the head of a black jackal. "Anubis?" Ardeth whispered in shock. The God growled, pleased, and turned to the seated man.

__

"It does know us."  
_"Indeed."_

The other man was robed in pure white, sitting on a throne of pure gold. His face was serene, even gentle, and he held the traditional pharaoh's crook and staff. Ardeth could not believe what he was seeing… but then, he could not believe that he was in Hell, either. "Osiris… Anubis…" he whispered, trying to bring his knowledge of them to encompass the fact that they actually existed. "Is this… some sort of dream?" Osiris turned to look at Ardeth in slight surprise.

__

"No, mortal. This is no dream."


	8. Cause and Effect

Rick ran to the nearest tent and shouted at the top of his lungs, "She's gone! Ardeth's kidnapped Evy!" The startled Med-jai warrior, after hearing this, laughed and told Rick he must have been having a nightmare. The scene was repeated with the next two Med-jai he woke. Furious, he shouted in the poor mens' faces until they told him that Ardeth would never do such a thing. _Yeah, I know,_ Rick had thought. _It's not like him._ But the fact remained that she was gone, and he had taken her. And _nobody_ was listening to him. He decided to change his tactics. "_He's gone! Ardeth and Evy've been kidnapped!"_ The response was immediate. The entire Med-jai camp awoke and within minutes was armed and ready to go. Rick didn't know how, or where Ardeth had disappeared to, but he had a pretty good guess. "They've been taken to Hamunaptra!" he shouted. The Med-jai warriors muttered knowingly and started off, giving Rick a horse only as an afterthought. He didn't like the idea of leaving Alex alone in the camp, but neither did he like the idea of bringing him to a cursed Egyptian city with a psychotic kidnapper on the loose. He followed the Med-jai uneasily as they made their way to the City of the Dead.

Evy's sobs echoed dully in the sacrificing room. Imhotep took no notice, as he was searching the room for signs that his priests could be resurrected. It would only work if the sacred incantations had been perfectly preserved on the walls. Unfortunately, Imhotep doubted that they had survived at all in the submergence of the City. Studying the walls, he could make out parts of the incantation, but- no, it was not complete. He sighed. He would not be able to complete the ceremony, which meant that he would have to kill this… _Evy…_ by himself. It would take twice as long, but it could still be done; and he would do it, he would sacrifice Evy as he had always longed to do. This time it did not have the purpose of resurrecting Anck-su-namun- his train of thought was broken momentarily by that thought. Anck-su-namun. His living, breathing purpose of several thousand years. A false purpose, as it had turned out. He lived now only for revenge- what else was there? What else could there be… He almost didn't notice as Evy's sobs gradually died down. After a moment, he turned and noticed that she had sat up and was staring at him.

"What?" he asked out of curiosity. He could afford to be indulgent when she was about to die. "Imhotep?" she asked clearly. He could see her fright. "Yes?" he asked, a bit annoyed that she had not recognized him. She looked down. "Why…" She looked right at him. "Why are you doing this?" Imhotep smiled. All the victims he had smuggled into this room over the centuries had asked him the same question. He often wondered why they felt the need to justify their deaths. Perhaps it was out of misguided need to die honorably. "Why am I going to kill you?" he asked. He could see her shiver at his deadpan statement. "I have told you this before." He walked down the steps towards her altar. "Revenge, Nefertiri. I am evening the score." It momentarily amused him, his own use of that foreign phrase. He did not believe it originated from the Med-jai culture; he assumed it was the American's… Rick. Evy looked confused. Hesitantly, she asked, "What did we do to you?" Disbelief halted his progress. "What did you do?" he repeated.

Images tumbled over each other in his mind. The death of Anck-su-namun. The thwarting of her resurrection. His eternal damnation as the Hom-dai was performed. His resurrection and again failed resurrection of Anck-su-namun, and then his second death. His second resurrection, his defeat at the hands of the O'Connells, and his crushing defeat at the hands of his other half. His third death. "What did you do?" he repeated again. "You resurrected me!" he shouted, louder than he had intended. "You brought me back, doomed to fail, again and again!" Evy shrank back, frightened. "You brought her within my reach, only to slip out of my grasp! Gone!" he shouted, wracking his chest with the force of his bellow. Evy cowered. He blinked, and tried to breathe normally. He had not meant to appear out of control. Slowly, Evy looked up at him. "I admit that perhaps much of your torture is our doing…" she spoke very quietly, almost whispering. Imhotep opened his mouth to respond furiously, but her soft tone cut through his rage. "But… is it truly our fault… that she ran away from you?" She slid into a whisper on her last few words. Imhotep stared at her, unable to answer. "Is it?" she asked, emboldened just a bit by his lack of response. He couldn't answer.

"If I am not dreaming, then how is it that I see you?"

Ardeth was kneeling in front of Osiris, having instinctively genuflected in the presence of such omnipotence.

__

"I allowed you to view us."

"Why?"

Osiris smiled. _"You are here by mistake, mortal. We have no wish to torture innocent souls."_

Ardeth furrowed his brows. "How did I get here?"

__

"One of my subjects cast an incantation without our knowing."

Ardeth processed that. Slowly, he began to understand. "Imhotep?"

__

"If you mean the High Priest of Seti the First, then you are correct."

Ardeth hissed in frustration and rage. "Imhotep!"

Osiris raised his eyebrows slightly. _"You know this rogue?"_

Ardeth shook his head. "We have never met. But he has been threatening the safety of the world ever since my people began their protection of Hamunaptra."

Osiris nodded, understanding. _"The City of the Dead. I believe that I have heard of his doings on the world."_

"Then you understand why we must stop him?"

Anubis growled and took a step toward him. _"We? Mortal, you go too far. We are not equals, to be assumed allies with you. We are your bettors, man. Make no mistake…"_ Osiris held up a hand.  
_"Peace, Anubis. This mortal is a part of the modern world… he has no reason to revere us as our subjects did… and do." _The god turned to Ardeth. _"You see, mortal, although our subjects are no longer a part of the topside world, they exist here…" _His hand swept the fiery abyss around them, _"…in the Underworld. We are still Gods…and we are still powerful."_ His gentle eyes turned hard and flashed dangerously. _"And we will not allow this insult to go unnoticed. Prepare, mortal,"_ he said, voice rising, _"prepare. For in a moment, you will no longer be here, and neither will we."_ Anubis howled in anticipatory glee.  
_"And I will show this mortal Imhotep what the Gods are to him… and will _always be!" Ardeth had no time to prepare himself as a white light flashed, and everything went blank.


	9. Sacrifices

The pounding of the horse kept rhythm with Rick's heart as they neared the cursed City. The Med-jai were very angry, but in a deadly, focused way; it was frightening to see. He rode in back, trying to be unobtrusive and a part of the group at the same time. He knew that they didn't really want him there, but he wasn't leaving- he had to save his wife. He didn't know what exactly had happened to Ardeth, but for some reason, it appeared that he had lost his mind. And disappeared with Evy. Literally. The squatting sand-colored walls came into view like a cloud of pollution on the horizon. Rick tried not to think of Evy, alone in that terrible place with a crazy man. He hoped to the Lord that she was all right. The man leading the Med-jai called something in Arabic, and everyone halted. The man turned to face the grim-faced warriors and began to speak. Rick ground his teeth. He couldn't understand a word. He hoped they weren't discussing an important battle plan. Knowing the Med-jai, they probably were.

Evy sat on the altar, massaging her temples. Imhotep had already begun the preliminary incantations, the cleansing of the temple room and the prayer for guidance from the Lords of the Underworld. His rich tones echoed off the walls. His attention was totally focused on his words, leaving Evy free to examine the room for possible escape routes. It had been perhaps forty minutes since they'd been transported here, and still she had found no way out. Perhaps that was why Imhotep ignored her now, raising his arms, eyes closed. She squinted up at the ceiling, thick and cracked in places. It was too high to reach. It seemed that the only way out of the room was past Imhotep, or into that ghastly pool that Evy supposed led to the Underworld. Neither way seemed feasible or pleasant. The only moment that Evy had felt real hope was when Imhotep had failed to respond to her question. When she had been little, she had observed her mother doing the same thing to her father. By asking him questions that made him think, she had often been able to divert him from the most absurd of projects, such as the time when he wanted to move and build them a new house in Wales with his bare hands.

"Imhotep," she said. He ignored her and continued to chant. She recognized that he was nearing the end of the cleansing incantations. "Imhotep," she said again. With the final words and a flourish, he was done. "What?" he asked irritably. "You don't have to do this, Imhotep." He sneered. "A last act of morality? Trying to divert me from the baser act? Don't waste my time." He began the incantation of prayer. "Imhotep," she said in the insistent tone that a child would use on an inattentive parent. He stopped chanting and shouted, "Quiet!" Evy looked at him, not quite as frightened as she would have been an hour ago. "What will have changed?" She asked him. "If you kill me, what will you have accomplished?" He looked at her and smiled. "I will have done to you what you have done to me." He held up his fingers. "Twice." Evy shook her head. "And what will that mean when you are done? Will it change anything?" Imhotep descended a few steps and looked at Evy intently. "Yes," he said. "It will. You will be dead. And I will be at peace!" "Will you?" she asked, sure now of her argument. "Will it hurt any less once I am dead?" He sighed. "Evelyn Carnahan O'Connell, you try very hard. But it does not change the fact that you are going to die." Evy stood. "If I die, you will still be angry," she said. "You will still be sad. And no matter how many people you kill, you will still be sad and angry, Imhotep."

Imhotep looked at her inscrutably. Then he raised his hands and began the prayer again. Evy hid a smile of triumph. She had seen for just a moment in his eyes a sickening realization. He knew that what she was saying was true. Evy was very close to saving herself, and she knew it. "She's not coming back, you know," Evy said, raising her voice to be heard through his chanting. Imhotep continued, raising his own voice to block out hers. "Why don't you want to listen, Imhotep?" she shouted. "Are you afraid of what I'm saying?" He stopped and gave her a venomous look. "I am not afraid of you." "Then why won't you listen to what I am saying?" Imhotep didn't say anything, refusing to be baited. "You spent months planning this, didn't you?" she asked rhetorically, working it out in her mind as she spoke. "You thought about it day after day. It was the only thing keeping you going, wasn't it?" Imhotep scoffed. "Wasn't it?" She watched carefully as Imhotep clenched Ardeth's fists, ground Ardeth's teeth. She understood exactly why he was here. It was freeing to know this, to understand the way his mind worked. It was also a little sad.

Imhotep looked at her, this infuriating girl who thought she knew what he had been through. Who thought that she understood, thought that she could sympathize. This arrogant woman had no idea what she was saying. "Do not presume to think you know these things, Nefertiri." The words hissed out of him like steam. She was trying to make him think that killing her was unnecessary, that it would not help his pain. It _would _help. It would make all the difference. He would be free after she was gone. "Don't you see?" she asked softly, looking up at him with her big eyes, trying to look motherly and sympathetic. "I don't have to know these things. It's plain, right there on your face. And a simple death is not going to heal that much pain." She disgusted him. Disgustingly selfish, trying so hard to save herself. "Nefertiri," he said, voice shaking with rage, "you are overstepping your bounds." She was silenced for a moment. Unsettled that she had made him so angry, relieved and more than a bit calmed by her silence, he began his prayer to Anubis. "_O Lord of the Underworld, clear the path and welcome with open arms, for a new child is to join your kingdom…"_

Evy watched him warily. She had thought she was close to breaking through his delusions, but now it seemed that he was slipping away. She knew that she was making him unreasonably angry, that was a plus. But unless she could make him snap without killing her, she couldn't see how he would understand. "I just…" she stopped. Sympathy was just making him angry. "Fine," she said. "I will be honest, Imhotep. I do not want to die. Do you hear me?" she cried. "I do not want to die. I have a son, and a husband. If I die, what will become of them?" Imhotep froze. She blinked, thinking that she must have struck a chord. "Your husband will be crushed," Imhotep said a little too loudly. "He will weep for days. He will be in shock and desolate. And you," he said, "you would not in his place, would you?" he shouted. "Perhaps you do not love him as much as you thought you did!" Evy didn't understand. What was he saying? Imhotep glared, his face twisted with rage. "You are not as devoted, not as _good_ as he. You do not deserve-" his own anger choked him off. 

Confused and angry, Evy shouted back, "Stop trying to blame me for what she did! I love Rick more than she ever loved you!" Imhotep froze, and in an instant, Evy knew she had gone too far. Imhotep clenched his teeth. Shaking, he swept his hand towards her. She couldn't see anything, but she knew something was happening because she could hear the air rushing in the room. Suddenly her heart clenched and squeezed. Her mouth fell open, but she couldn't make a sound, because her lungs held no air. Her eyes filled with tears of pain so that she couldn't see Imhotep, his face twisted with agony and tears falling down his indifferent cheeks. His hand was outstretched, somehow holding her heart in his fist. The last thing in Evy's mind before the world fell black was that she had never said goodbye to Rick… and he would never see her again.


	10. Arrival

Imhotep stared at the lifeless body on the altar, feeling totally empty. He had done it. Perhaps not in the way he had imagined, but he had killed her- and he felt no different. It still hurt to think about her, to think about Rick and Evelyn together. His hand was still clenched, he realized, and he slowly uncurled it. Evy lay there, dead eyes staring at him, mouth still open with shock and pain. His knees gave out and he fell to the stone floor, gasping for breath. He didn't know what was happening; it felt like there was not enough air in the room. Chest heaving, he clenched his fists and tried to slow his breathing. He felt dizzy from hyperventilating, and he could not make his legs lift him, though not for lack of trying. He put his hands to his head and tried to calm down. After several shuddering breaths, he was no longer dizzy, and he could stand. Swaying slightly, he concentrated on staying upright on his feet. 

Moments passed in silence as he struggled not to collapse again. When he felt stable, he walked towards Evy. He supposed matter-of-factly that shock or perhaps disappointment had caused his breakdown. He looked down and brushed a lock of hair back from Evy's face, then withdrew his hand. It was still painful to look at her. A lump rose in his throat. He would never be free. He would never escape his hellish torture, not even in death. He had already tried death. Drawing shaky breaths, he realized that Evelyn had been correct in her statements. Killing her had not helped him. Killing everyone in Egypt would not help him. Nothing could help him. That crushing realization brought him to his knees again. His despair was enough to merit suicide, but that was no escape. He could not go anywhere that his torn heart would not go with him. Alone and helpless beyond belief, Imhotep put his head in his hands and wept.

With a rush that he felt rather than heard, Ardeth was suddenly in Hamunaptra. He blinked in the suddenly dim light, such a change from the flames of Hell. He could feel Osiris and Anubis behind him. They were very silent, as if communicating to each other in their minds. Ardeth thought that they probably were. His eyes adjusted to the light, he looked around the room. This was the temple sacrificing chamber in- "Oh, Allah," he breathed, heart breaking. Lying still on the altar was Evy O'Connell. No, he hoped. No, no. He went over and bent low, looking into her face, and knew that she was gone. He let out an explosive breath that was more like a moan, and didn't bother to wipe away the tears that fell. "Oh, Evy," he whispered. Poor Rick. Poor Alex… he suddenly noticed that desolate sobs were echoing through the room. Whipping around, he saw- himself. His fists clenched. "Imhotep," he said. Imhotep did not look up. It was so strange, watching himself cry as if the world was ending. For a moment he felt sorry for him, wondering what could have happened to make him so sad. But the moment ended, and anger flaring, he swung at Imhotep's head, and passed right through him. Thrown off balance, he tumbled to the floor.

__

"Mortal," he heard Osiris say. _"Do not bother. You are as good as a ghost, here."_ Ardeth looked up, startled; he had not realized that the Gods had finished their conversation. Anubis strode over to Imhotep. For the first time, Ardeth noticed that their footsteps made no sound. The jackal-headed God bent over the weeping man, sneering. _"So,"_ he said. _"_This_ is the man who has dared to challenge the Gods."_ Osiris walked over, eyes full of sadness.  
_"This man is suffering unbearable pain…"_  
Anubis growled. _"He will be, when I begin my punishment."_  
_"He is already being punished, Anubis."_   
Anubis straightened and stared at Osiris. _"You mean…"_  
Osiris shook his head. _"You will be allowed to punish him, Anubis. Just try to be gentle; he suffers more than you know."  
_Anubis made a whuffing sound. Ardeth would have smiled if he had not been so upset, because it sounded like the dog-version of a scoff. Imhotep suddenly looked up, face streaked. His eyes narrowed. He said something in Ancient Egyptian that Ardeth could not understand. Osiris lifted his eyebrows and smiled. _"He knows we are here."_ Osiris said something in a voice that echoed strangely, as if there were two of him. Imhotep's eyes widened. "Osiris?" he whispered.  
Osiris' eyes flashed; his gentle face set in formidable lines. _"Imhotep, you have insulted the Gods."_ Ardeth saw his face freeze in fear, and it gave him a shiver. "M-my Lord," Imhotep began. Ardeth blinked. He had not thought that Imhotep knew English. "What offense have I committed?"  
Anubis gave a literal bark of laughter. Imhotep flinched_. "This is what you have committed, mortal."_ Imhotep's eyes swiveled to Ardeth, who realized uncomfortably that he was visible. Imhotep's lips parted slightly with astonishment and fear as the Gods became visible as well.

"My Lords…" Imhotep started. Then he stopped, and he looked surprised. His face relaxed, and he said easily, "Take me in, then. Punish me, my Lords. It is _no more_," he practically shouted, "than I have already suffered." He was not quite yelling at the Gods; he had more sense than that. Anubis looked surprised.  
_"I did not think that he was in this much pain," _The cruel-faced God said to Osiris. Ardeth glanced at Imhotep, but it was obvious that he did not hear.  
_"Yes…"_ said Osiris sadly. _"It is surprising."_ Then his face hardened again. _"But the fact remains… you have killed a mortal, apparently," _he told Imhotep, glancing at Evy somewhat indifferently, _"and you have as good as killed another. For that you must be punished, Doomed One. No one may escape from Hell and not feel the wrath of its keepers."_ Ardeth shivered at the name he called him. Doomed One. What did that mean?  
_"It means, mortal," _Anubis told him quietly, _"that this man will never be free of the suffering he knows now. Not unless he can learn to heal and repent."_ And he would never learn, Ardeth knew. Imhotep was not the kind to forgive or forget. He was listening to Osiris now, standing indifferently, as if he had experienced worse than the anger of the Lord of the Underworld. Ardeth watched him, reviewing what he knew about the Creature from his people's history. He was a savage, emotionless monster who lived only to kill. But that image did not match up with the anguished, broken man he had seen sobbing just a few minutes ago. Ardeth was becoming conflicted. His uncertainty, however, was kept at bay by the sight of Evy's lifeless body, lying in the edge of his sight. As long as she was dead, Imhotep was guilty. And for that, he would have to die.

Ardeth heard footsteps above him. Everyone looked up save Osiris, who shut his eyes momentarily. _"He is the husband of this," _he said absently, pointing to Evy. _"He comes with scores of Med-jai."_ He opened his eyes. _"He intends to kill you,"_ he told Imhotep calmly. _"He will not succeed."_ Imhotep looked at the ground. "It would not matter if he did," he said in a low voice. "There would be no difference." Ardeth was not listening; he had heard only that his Med-jai were coming.

"They will not be hurt, will they?" he asked anxiously. "The Med-jai." Osiris looked at him with a touch of amusement.  
_"Your Med-jai are safe."_ Ardeth reddened slightly. He didn't know how they could have been hurt- he was acting like a worried midwife. But even so, he was glad to know that they would be fine. You never knew when dealing with the Creature. Although… it didn't seem that Imhotep was feeling up to destroying anyone at the moment. He was sated with Evy, he thought, fists tightening at the thought. The footsteps came closer, and he heard his chief-commander's voice. "This way," he heard him say in Arabic. Ardeth's eyes strained towards the entrance and he saw his commander enter cautiously, sword in hand. "My chief!" he exclaimed as he saw Imhotep. Then he saw Ardeth. His eyes widened. "Allah help us," he said in their language. A few Med-jai hurried in after him and froze when they saw the situation. Many made warding signs when they saw Anubis and Osiris. The Gods looked at the stunned warriors calmly.  
_"We have visitors, Anubis,"_ Osiris noted. The other God nodded.  
_"Yes," _he said.


	11. Resolutions

Rick elbowed his way through the clusters of warriors, struggling to get to the front and find Evy. "'Scuse me," he muttered several times as the Med-jai gave him dark looks for his intrusion. Towards the front the Med-jai seemed to be upset over something. He wondered what was wrong. Pushing his way through more Med-jai, he emerged at the front next to the man he recognized as Ardeth's chief commander or something equally important. His eyes swept the room. "Evy?" he called, then stopped. The first person he saw in the room looked like a king or something. He squinted. One was dressed like an ancient pharaoh, and the other- Rick had to brace his hand on the commander's shoulder to keep his knees from giving out. The other had the head of a black dog. The commander glanced at his hand distastefully, and he quickly removed it. The two strange men were looking at each other silently. Rick got the funny feeling they were talking somehow. He tore his eyes away from the men and noticed two Ardeths. Ignoring how bizarre this whole scene was, he narrowed his eyes. "Hey!" he shouted. "What did you do with-" his heart stopped. "Evy?" he whispered, hoping hopelessly that her still form was just sleeping. He ran forward, not noticing as one of the Ardeths bowed his head in grief. He rushed up to his wife and took her wrist, feeling for a pulse. Nothing. Her pale hand flopped uselessly as he let it go. "Oh my-" his throat closed up. "Evy," he breathed, "not again, please, please…" She didn't move. He wrapped his arms around her, trying not to cry. He tried to speak, but nothing came out. There was nothing. He closed his eyes.

Ardeth's heart ached watching his friend. He swallowed and turned to Osiris, who was silently conversing with Anubis again. "Can't you do anything?" he pleaded, not caring that he was interrupting. Osiris looked at him.  
_"I can."_  
Ardeth looked at him, bewildered. "Then why-?"  
_"I wait, mortal. There are events that must happen before things will be set right."_ Though Ardeth was nearly as upset as Rick, he thought he understood.  
"How many events?"  
Osiris smiled. _"Only one, now. Watch," _he said, pointing to Imhotep. Again, it was obvious that he had not heard a single word. Most likely that was what the God had intended.

Imhotep was staring at Rick bent over, shaking with suppressed sobs. There was something that this reminded him of… something… he looked at O'Connell. To his surprise, he felt empathy with the man, and then it came to him. He remembered what this was like: the second time Anck-su-namun had died. He had succeeded in rejoining her soul and her body, mere hours after her first death, and her beautiful eyes had opened when the Med-jai had entered, and reversed the spell. He had watched her soul trail away with heartsick, hopeless eyes, knowing that she was so close, yet so incredibly far. He had almost died of the sadness. But he had recovered… hadn't he? Wouldn't Rick O'Connell as well? He swallowed, averting his eyes. He did not want to watch. Because this time, it was his fault that a woman had died. And in the jumble of souls and bodies that accompanied resurrection, his mind equated Rick and Evy with himself and Anck-su-namun. And he couldn't bear it. Now he wished with all his heart that he had not been so bent on revenge, useless and painful as it had turned out to be. _I'm sorry,_ he thought to both Evy and Anck-su-namun. _I'm sorry…_

Osiris gave a self-satisfied smile. _"It is done," _he told Ardeth. Anubis whuffed. Osiris ignored the tempestuous God and closed his eyes. _"I will return shortly," _he said, and was gone. Ardeth blinked unbelievingly. With all he had seen in the last 24 hours, he still could not quite believe any of it. He accepted for now, but after this was all over, he was sure he would be seriously conflicted with his beliefs. A second later, Osiris returned, and he was carrying Evy in his arms. Ardeth leaped forward. "Evelyn!" She smiled at him shakily as Osiris put her down.  
_"Do you understand what you must do?"_ he asked her kindly. She nodded.  
"Yes, I think so," she said nervously. She glanced at Imhotep, who was staring at Rick and her body with an unreadable expression. "What about-?"  
Osiris shook his head. _"He will not harm you."_ Evy nodded in relief.

The Med-jai commander had overcome his shock and he now came up to them. "Uh, my chief," he said hesitantly, bowing to Ardeth. He glanced at Imhotep, bowing to him as well. "Greetings, Sha-bet," Ardeth said seriously. Sha-bet looked at him in relief. "My chief." He looked at Imhotep, who was not paying attention. "Who…" Ardeth pursed his lips. "An imposter, Sha-bet. Pay him no mind." Sha-bet nodded, preferring not to question. "Our chief, Ardeth Bay!" he shouted in Arabic to the rest of Med-jai, gesturing to Ardeth. They raised a great cry, relieved to know which was real. Ardeth shouted, "Quietly, my warriors," in Arabic, and they instantly silenced. He nodded appreciatively and turned to Evy. "If you would, Evelyn…" he looked at Rick meaningfully. Evy nodded, twisting her hands. 

She walked over to her body and touched her hands to the temples. Osiris came up behind her and put his hands on her temples. Ardeth glanced at Rick. The grief-stricken man could not see Evy or Osiris now. Osiris intoned some words in Ancient Egyptian, speaking resonantly in that double-toned voice. Rick's head jerked up, and he looked wildly around for the speaker. Anubis looked at him apathetically. Evy gasped sharply, and her hands went through her body's head. In less than a second, she was sucked inside like water through a straw. It was, however, more than three seconds before she opened her eyes, fully adjusted to being alive once more. Rick's mouth fell open. "Evy?" he croaked. She smiled at him sympathetically. "Hi, Rick," she said. He laughed aloud and hugged her fiercely. "Oh, Evy," he said, tears streaming down his face now, tears of happiness. Imhotep stared, then hesitantly smiled as well. He said something in Ancient Egyptian that had a slightly reverent tone to it. Sha-bet made a warding sign and praised Allah aloud in the same moment. Ardeth's heart swelled, and he could not bring himself to break the moment by speaking. Even Anubis seemed to be smiling.   
But he soon shook it off and said in growling tones, _"Now it is my turn."_   
Osiris looked a bit apprehensively at his companion. _"Gently, Anubis." _Anubis did not respond. The jackal-headed God strode to Imhotep, who cringed but did not try to escape. Anubis reached _inside_ Ardeth's body and yanked Imhotep out. The High Priest gasped as if falling into ice-cold water. Sha-bet swore and took a step back, and the rest of the Med-jai broke out in disturbed murmurs. Ardeth took an involuntary step forward as his body fell limply to the ground with no soul to support it. Evy and Rick looked on, concerned.  
Anubis nodded towards the crumpled body. _"It is all yours, mortal. Hurry, now."_ Eagerly Ardeth stepped forward. He touched his body's shoulder and felt the same rush of air that he had felt when the Gods transported him there. Almost instantly he opened his eyes, and realized that he was himself again. It was all he could do to keep from laughing aloud. He stood up from his uncomfortable position and shook himself vigorously. "Allah…" he sighed. It was so good to be solid again. Sha-bet watched him, wild-eyed, looking as if he had just seen a ghost. Well, Ardeth thought with slight amusement, perhaps he had. 

Imhotep put up no resistance as Anubis threw him over his shoulder and Osiris came to stand by him. _"I apologize for the trouble my subject has caused you all,"_ the Lord of the Underworld said. _"I can only hope that you will forgive me for allowing this mistake to slip by."_  
Rick shook his head. "I'm just glad that my wife isn't dead again." Osiris smiled.  
_"I can tell you for a fact that neither of you are ordained to enter my kingdom for quite some time."_  
Evy smiled back at the God. "That's very good to know, my Lord."   
Osiris inclined his head. _"Farewell, mortals."_ Anubis bowed intricately, surprising for such a rough person and for a person with a man on his shoulder. _"May Ra favor you all."_ Then they were gone. Evy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Well," she said. "That was quite an adventure." Rick shook his head. "Evy, hon, you are quite the optimist." She smiled lovingly at him. "And you're a pessimist, I suppose?" He shrugged. "Well, I like to be prepared." Underneath their playful banter, Ardeth could see that they were both upset. They needed time to recover. "Med-jai," he said in Arabic, "let us return home. The O'Connells will be given treatment as my guests once more, and you all will be glad of it," he said severely as some of his warriors grumbled. "They will be leaving Egypt soon. We will make them feel welcome to come back. Come!" he said in English to the O'Connells. "We will return to my camp. You are welcome to stay another night." They nodded.  
"Thank you, Ardeth," Evy said sincerely. Ardeth bowed. "It is nothing, for the favored one of a God," he said with a slight smile. Evy smiled at him and hugged her husband. Ardeth turned on his heel and strode towards his men, glad to be back in command again. He hated feeling helpless. "Thank you all for coming to help me," he said in their language. "We shall return now." They nodded with smiles for their chief, and started organizing the march.

Evy didn't want to leave Rick's embrace, but they had to go. Reluctantly she let him go and turned to follow the Med-jai. "I'm sorry I left you for a while," she said. "Me too," he said. "But it's okay. You're back now, right?" She nodded, frowning thoughtfully. "You know, Imhotep did all of this because of Anck-su-namun. He went crazy after she left him. Can you imagine being that in love?" she asked wonderingly. Rick put a hand on her cheek. "Yeah," he said softly. "I can."


End file.
